


D is for Dead

by Ruis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Character writes PhD thesis in dark magic, Dark Magic, Demon Pact Leads to Unforeseen Sexy Consequences, Demon Sex, M/M, Mind Games, Moral Ambiguity, Theories of Magic Prominent in Fic, mutual dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruis/pseuds/Ruis
Summary: Pieces of broken chalk littered the floor, silent witnesses of forbidden magic.





	D is for Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheeon/gifts).

„Statistics“, the demon said almost gently, exhaling warm air over Tamian’s cock in a way that might have been carefully planned or entirely uncaring. “In the end, it all comes down to statistics. You know about those, don’t you?” He waved a hand in the vague direction of piles of paper strewn all over the desk, the chair, and in some cases now also the floor. It had not just been the wind of wings unfurling that had knocked them astray. Pieces of broken chalk littered the floor, silent witnesses of forbidden magic.

Tamian shivered, carefully not looking too closely at his work that was in hopeless disarray now, only caring that none of the sheets had crossed, or worse, smudged the lines of the summoning circle. It had taken him the better part of three years to design the spell, to recreate all that precious knowledge that had been lost or destroyed during the centuries. There had been some statistics involved as well, but he did not think the demon was referring to those. 

All the countless pages of carefully drawn diagrams, calculations and plots had been supposed to be theoretical work only – that was the sole reason he had found a supervisor for his thesis at all. And yet, Tamian thought while standing naked in that circle drawn in chalk stolen from the lecture hall, they had inevitably been leading up to this. How could he not have done this, with the promise of glorious magic at his fingertips? How could he not have taken the chance to gain knowledge no one else in his time had?

Not looking at the theoretical details of his summoning left only looking at the demon currently kneeling at his feet. He was beautiful, Tamian thought involuntarily. His body could have been a sculpture in some museum, not that Tamian knew anything about at art. His muscles were finely toned, his skin shimmering faintly bronze. His hair was as black as the feathers of his wings that spanned the whole room, grotesquely out of place when viewed next to Tamian’s shabby second-hand furniture. His hands, currently scratching the inside of Tamian’s thighs softly, seemed to end in claws when viewed at just the correct angle. His face betrayed his otherworldliness by being just slightly too symmetrical to be human. His smile seemed to promise wicked things. 

And his eyes… Tamian knew better than to look into the creature’s eyes for too long. How he had come to know them so intimately, then, know not only the vivid green shimmer but also all those tiny flecks of gold and black in them, he could not tell. Vaguely he was aware he’d been staring, couldn’t bring himself to care. “I… know your name”, Tamian almost whimpered. “I’m paying the price we agreed on. You cannot harm me. You have to obey me.” 

Of course, theoretically he knew that throughout the history of dark magic almost everyone foolish enough to summon a demon had sooner or later died at that demon’s hand. In the back of his mind, although Tamian did his best to deny the fact, he knew perfectly well that must be the statistics the demon had been referring to. It was difficult to think now anyway when he was so hard it hurt. He bit his lip to keep himself from making embarrassing noises, or worse, beg for more.

The demon chuckled while his hands moved upwards to Tamian’s ass, a finger teasing his hole now. “Is that what you think is happening?”, he asked, his voice still soft and gentle while his scratches became hard enough to hurt. “A simple agreement, right? My help with your work in exchange for a personal debt paid in pain or lust. Or both. Ah, no doubt I will find out which option you prefer.” His beautiful smile turned vicious. “Of course I’m at your command, obeying your every word. It’s only by your orders that I’m here, licking your cock” – he paused a moment to do just that – “throwing you down and having my way with you right in this circle…”

Tamian had no idea how he had ended up on the floor, and yet there he was, getting a close-up view of the glyphs he had drawn earlier that evening. It felt like a lifetime ago, and belatedly, despite having checked them again and again, he wondered whether he had gotten all those sigils right. Either way, there was nothing to be done about it now, not while he was being held down and roughly prepared. For a moment he wondered absentmindedly whether demon spit had any interesting magical properties. That might be a good topic for another research project… When he could think again. Something tickled his legs, and it took Tamian longer than he liked to realize it was feathers. Desperately, he bit the heel of his hand to keep himself from moaning.

Right then, it was very easy to forget about all magical theory. Gently, the demon’s claws moved all over his body, never quite drawing blood, but always keeping Tamian at the fine edge between pain and all-encompassing lust. “Well.”, the demon hissed into his ear. “What are your orders now? Shall I cut you so you bleed? Shall I fuck you until you scream? Shall I – leave right this minute, maybe?” That last one drew an involuntary mewl of protest from Tamian. “You will have to tell me.”

“…more”, Tamian answered as clearly as he could, the word coming out as a whisper. “Fuck me.” He swallowed, trying to steady his voice. “I mean, I order you to fuck me.” At that, he felt fingers withdrawing and something larger taking their place. He could not keep back his moans anymore, stretched to the point of pleasure-pain, pushed down to the floor with one clawed hand between his shoulder blades so he could do nothing more than take it. Dimly, he was aware the demon was moaning as well, was glad he’d been able to take away at least that much control from the dark creature. His mind was floating now, all his thoughts, all his worries disappearing behind that blinding white wall that was pain and pleasure in equal measures. 

It was glorious and beautiful and over too soon. Tamian registered it as an absence, a loss. He stayed on the floor, still trying to catch his breath when the demon had already composed himself and looked as unfazed as before. With a snap that sounded unsettlingly final, the demon folded his wings on his back and stood up. “Wait”, Tamian called. “I know you will leave now, but what about your part of the deal? You know – my thesis?”

The demon laughed at that, for the first time showing what Tamian thought was a genuinely open expression. “Still so scientifically minded? I think I like you. And don’t worry. It’s good work, no doubt a clear A”, he said. He picked up a few scattered pages and glanced at them briefly. “Of course, in my personal grading system, A is for Amusing. And in case you were wondering, D is for Dead.” The demon chuckled softly while stepping on the circle’s outline, slowly and deliberately smearing the chalk with his foot while Tamian could only stare helplessly. “You are still breathing, so I suppose you can count your thesis a success. Just try not to hand it in to… more critical minds.”


End file.
